Dreamcatcher
by Twyla Mercedes
Summary: What's with all those dreamcatchers Emma keeps making? What if not only memories, but fantasies, deep, dark fantasies are sometimes caught and placed in these dreamcatchers? Belle and Rumple come into possession of several of them and make some discoveries about themselves.
1. Chapter 1

**Dreamcatcher**

 **Camelot**

"What is she doing?"

"I'm not quite sure. She keeps making those things. She makes them instead of sleeping."

David and Killian were watching Emma as she rapidly wove around the rings, adding in beads and feathers as she went. They were standing inside what was left of Granny's Diner watching the incipient Dark One Emma busy herself.

"They're dream catchers," Belle told them glancing between the two men. "She and Neal had one. He kept it when they got separated and she found it later in his apartment in New York. I know she took it back to Storybrooke with her."

"What are they?" Killian asked.

"It's an American Indian belief that one of these hung over your bed will stop you from having bad dreams. The good dreams will find their way through but the bad dreams get entangled," Belle explained briefly. She watched Emma a moment, "I suspect Emma has improved on the original model."

 **Afterwards – Back in Storybrooke - The Dark One's Abode  
**

"There are hundreds, maybe thousands, of these things hanging up all over the place!" David exclaimed. "I had no idea." He walked through the darkened chamber observing all the different dreamcatchers, large and small, glittering and plain, rustic and sophisticated, all hanging down, none obviously attached to anything.

They were in the basement of the Dark One's house, there on an important mission.

"Rumple said to be careful of anything we found here. He thought that Emma would have likely laid some traps," Belle was picking her way through the hundreds of dreamcatchers, trying not to touch any of them, but struggling to dodge them all.

"What are we supposed to be getting?" David asked. _He did respect Belle's intelligence and never for a moment underestimated Rumple's sheer wiliness, but he really didn't understand the purpose of their mission – and when he didn't understand something he was always a little on edge._

"It's one particular dreamcatcher," Belle told him. "You've seen it. It was the one that Emma brought back from New York, the one that Neal had with him. It was large, tightly woven with three strands hanging down from it. It had feathers and green and yellow beads."

"I sorta remember it, but how do we find it among all these others?" David asked. "I had no idea there were going to be so many."

"I didn't either. We just have to look," Belle told him. "It likely is special to Emma. Not only was it connected with Neal but she used it one of the first times she purposely used magic."

The two walked through the cavernous room, looking, thinking they had found the right item one moment only to realize that it wasn't quite the right one, then, finding another one, only to have this one rejected also.

"We don't have much time," Belle whispered. "Rumple figured he could only keep Emma's attention for fifteen minutes, twenty minutes at the most."

"Well, this is hopeless! There are just too many of them! We better give up for the time being and come back another time." David was frustrated by their lack of success. _This should have been easy._

Belle hesitated. She had asked Rumple if there was any way she could be helpful and he'd given her this task. It was very important, a first step, in neutralizing Emma. They had to find it.

But if they were caught in the Dark One's inner sanctum . . . well Belle didn't think that Emma would hurt her dad but Belle wasn't sure what the Dark One might do to her, especially if Emma decided that keeping Belle prisoner would keep Rumple in line.

Rumple hadn't wanted to send her, but she'd insisted.

And now here they were. Out of time and their mission still uncompleted.

"Belle, we've got to go. Emma will be returning any moment," David insisted. "And I'd hate to have to go back to Rumple without you. He'd likely turn me into a toad or something unnatural."

"Oh he wouldn't do anything like that," Belle told him. _At least she didn't think he would. He was much more mellow, less excitable, less vindictive now that the Dark Curse had been lifted from him, but he was still fiercely protective of his family and he certainly saw Belle as his family._

But she had to agree they were out of time and turned to go. It was then that the green and yellow beads caught her eye.

"David!" she hissed. "There it is. Up high. Can you get it?"

David now saw it. He reached but wasn't tall enough. "Here," he said and he lifted up the petite Mrs. Gold who was able to reach up and snag the dreamcatcher.

"Now let's go!" David urged her and pushed her along in front of him. On the way out, Belle grabbed a slew of the other dreamcatchers. David gave her a quizzical look.

"I just want to see what's in some of these things," Belle explained. David nodded and he grabbed a handful of the dreamcatchers to carry himself.

They made it out the basement window and scurried along the darkened side of the house, cutting through the Dark One's back yard and through the hedge out to the street where David's truck waited for them. Belle realized that wearing her new red high-heeled strappy sandals _one of Rumple's favorites_ probably hadn't been the best idea when she was going to be involved with swift stealthy activity.

 **The Town's Square**

 _Never let them see you sweat._

Rumple knew from Gold's memories that had been the tag line for a deodorant commercial from decades ago.

But it was so important when dealing with a Dark One. He had bantered and cajoled, teased and taunted, hell, he'd flirted with her and to the nth degree that he was comfortable, he'd walked around her, as if intent on seducing her, reminding her how much they had in common, how well he, and only he, could understand what she was going through. He spoke softly, not quite touching her with his hands. She was doing so well, his very clever Emma.

But there was still much for her to learn, he'd reminded her. Things he could teach her.

She reminded him then. Something he had forgotten.

She already had a teacher. The imp had appeared to her. It still did appear from time to time, reminding her of her power, showing her how to channel it, how to use it while passing the cost of the magic onto someone else.

 _He had forgotten that._

 _How could he have forgotten that?_

 _Zosa had come to him early on and remained during those early days. Zosa stayed with him when he had destroyed the ogres, relishing all the death and destruction, feeding on it, even though these mindless, soulless creatures had been The Enemy – it was still death and destruction. Zosa had stood silently by while he led the children home. Zosa had then guided him back to the Duke of the Frontlands palace and had showed him how to destroy the man who had dared to subjugate the Dark One. Zosa had guided his hand in the slow, merciless process of killing the man, savoring each moment of the hapless potentate's death._

 _How had he forgotten that, indeed._

 _And now Emma was seeing him as he had appeared when he was the Dark One._

 _Interesting._

Emma became annoyed with him soon enough and he had to let her go. He didn't want her to suspect that he was only a decoy, that David and Belle were doing the hard job.

 _Why had he ever agreed to allow Belle to go on this dangerous mission?_

 _Because he could refuse Belle nothing, he answered himself._

And he so needed this dreamcatcher. He needed the leverage, the power the dreamcatcher would provide.

Pissed at him but not enough to vaporize him, had finally Emma transported herself away. Rumple went back to his shop. He turned on the back light, a pre-arranged signal that Emma had gone and it was safe for Belle and David to come back into the shop.

He was prepared to wait but hoped it wouldn't be too long – _that could mean that Belle and David were still in the Dark One's house_. Fortunately it was only a moment when they came in through the back door, having kept to the shadows all the way back to the shop and then standing in the darkness waiting for Rumple's signal. They were breathless and tense when they walked in.

"We got it," David told him, triumphantly holding up the prize.

"Thanks," Rumple replied taking it from David. "This will help."

"You think you can . . ." David started then stopped. "This will help turn her back?" he asked.

"I hope so. I need something that has part of her magic in it," he explained. "And this," he held it up to the light, "this has a lot of her magic, innocent, pure, sweet magic."

David nodded and left out the back door the way he had come in.

They stood together in the back of Rumple's shop, Belle waiting for him to begin. Rumple was, as he often was, momentarily distracted by Belle's legs – the red sandals and the short skirt set them off perfectly. Part of him enjoyed the view; another part of him wanted to completely cover her up so that he would be the only man who would see her. He pulled himself back into the present. "What are these?" Rumple asked Belle of the other dreamcatchers she held in her hands.

"I was curious what she was doing with all of these."

"It's just a hobby. If you're going to live forever you have to develop some outside interests. Mine was spinning. I might have encouraged Emma to learn to knit," he replied, but he picked up a little one.

He passed his hand over the webbing and a picture of David and Arthur retrieving a large red and white mushroom came through.

"That's the one that was supposed to allow us to talk with Merlin, but then Arthur destroyed it. This shows David and Arthur tracking it down!" she told Rumple. "None of us remembered how they got it but it's all here."

"The Crimson Crown," Rumple said to himself. "What's this one?" he asked picking up another dream catcher.

Belle looked over his shoulder as he activated it. "This looks like Henry meeting up with Violet in a stable. But Henry didn't know Violet when they came here."

"So, all of the memories of Camelot are in these dreamcatchers," Rumple quickly surmised.

"If we could get more of them, we might be able to piece together what happened!" Belle realized.

"But Emma would stop you before you got enough of them," Rumple gently reminded her.

"What is this one?" Belle asked holding up another of the dreamcatchers.

Rumple waved his hand over the object and . . .

 **Memories**

They were plunged into darkness, falling down, deep into an abyss.

" _Take her, take her, take her! She's yours. Yours by agreement, by willing agreement!"_

"I didn't bring her here for that."

" _Why not?" the voice was whining. "It's what they're all expecting you'll do to her. It's what she thinks is going to happen. You're a beast, a monster. Take her! Fuck her!"_

"No," he managed to answer.

" _Coward! You're afraid she'll reject you? Say no to you? What does it matter?" Now the voice was cajoling, "There's virgin blood there, royal virgin blood. Do you know how valuable that is? Take her!"_

"No, I don't need to do that to her."

" _Well, you don't really need to eat or drink, but you sometimes do. Why not do this? It affords only pleasure. Imagine her beneath you, all that beautiful white flesh yielding to you. Just look at those jiggly little tits. Don't you want to suck on them, bite them?"_ The voice softened, _"I know she'll respond to you, she's ripe, she's ready. You can take your time with her. Seduce her slowly if you like. She'll be begging you for it."_

"No, I don't want to hurt the woman."

" _Ah, perhaps you don't want to be bothered with her fighting you. There are plenty of potions you can give her. I prefer one that immobilizes the girl, so she knows everything that is going on, she can feel everything that is happening to her but she can't move. It's delicious."_

"I don't find pleasure in forcing a young woman to my will!"

" _Well, however else are you going to get a woman into your bed? Do you think a gem like Cora comes along very often?"_

"Cora didn't love me. She only wanted my power."

" _So what? That's the basis for many a happy relationship, one where there are things that each partner wants from the other. TAKE HER! FUUUUCK HER!"_

"No."

.

.

.

The room brightened again. Rumple looked embarrassed and looked away from Belle.

"What was that?" she asked him, stunned.

He stepped away from her and spoke in a low tone. "A conversation I had with the Dark One right after you came to my castle," he confessed. "I hadn't thought of it in a long time."

Belle considered a moment. "It wanted you to . . . to . . ."

"Yes," he confessed.

"But you didn't. You shut me in a dungeon and terrified me, but you never laid a hand on me."

"I didn't," but he was still so embarrassed that those memories were part of him. Belle smiled at him, touched him on the arm and then moved in to hug him. They stood quietly together for a long moment. When they separated, Rumple managed a slight smile.

"Thank you," he told Belle in a whisper.

Belle idly picked up one of the other dream catchers. "That memory wasn't taken from Camelot. That one was taken from you."

"Yes. When I was lying in a coma, that was one of the dreams I remember. It's a real memory . . . one I had forgotten."

"So there could be some other . . . personal dreams . . . and memories . . . in these dream catchers?" she asked him slowly.

He nodded.

"Do we dare to risk another one?" she asked him.

He looked over the little stack. "Each of these have different color beads on them. This one," he held up the dream catcher that had held his own memory, "has beads that are blue and black." He looked through the others. "Like this one," he held up a different dream catcher. "Do you think we should see what's in here?" By now he wasn't so sure.

"Let's look together," she told him and reached out to hold onto his hand.

.

.

.

Again they fell into an abyss, but now they fell into a plush, darkened bedroom.

Belle looked around and realized it was one of the tower rooms from the Dark Castle. Not the tower where he did all of his magic, but his sleeping chamber, one that she had been charged with cleaning. She remembered he'd never actually used his bed except as a repository for discarded clothes and occasionally for pouting. At the moment, she was lying on her back in his bed, on silken sheets surrounded by soft pillows and walled-in by heavy damask curtains hanging down from the canopy.

 _This had never happened?!_

Rumple, the imp, was slowly caressing her. He was kneeling between her legs allowing one of his hands to drift up her leg and then back down. He raised the leg to kiss the inside of her ankle. She moaned.

"Pretty girl, if I had known you'd been wanting in my bed, I would obliged you much sooner," he purred to her, kissing her along her leg up to her knee.

"This isn't right," she murmured, dizzy and confused. _She was Belle, not Belle, at the moment, both Belle from the past and Belle from the now._

How had she gotten here? She was vaguely away that her clothing was gone, everything from her shoes and stockings, her dress, her undergarments, even those that were closest to her body, those that protected her modesty, her virtue, all gone. And yet, as scandalized as she was, she felt warm and excited. She was enjoying the illicit attentions of her imp.

"This is exactly right, my darling. Give yourself over to me. I'm make it good for you," he promised her.

"But . . ." she knew she should protest. _This wasn't right._

"I won't hurt you, dearest. Feel, my sweet girl, just feel." And she could feel his hand track up the inside of her trembling thigh. She could feel his claws, not scratching, but scraping, heightening the sensations. His touch was warm.

 _It did feel good. He was being so gentle with her. She wanted this, she told herself._ Belle felt herself thrashing but she was unable to escape _she didn't want to escape_. The imp was touching her, kissing her in a slow, wet manner, she could feel his lips and tongue, his oh so talented tongue, on her skin. She felt an unaccustomed warmth gathering, pooling deep inside her core.

"You are so beautiful. How can I not want you in my bed?" he asked her between kisses.

He was close now, one hand was now on her stomach, stroking her, soothing her. He brought it down and brushed against the curls between her legs. She was damp, glistening.

His hands, clawed and scaly as they were, continued to manage to be gentle. He knew she was beginning to respond to his touch and he continued to touch her, rubbing, caressing, stimulating. He relished her moaning, how welcoming she was to his attentions. He judged her ready enough and slipped a finger into her tight channel while he used his thumb to apply more direct pressure to her little feminine bud which was now peeking out, swollen and sensitive.

It was enough to send her over.

She cried out, her body clenching around his finger, her eyes widened, her hands clasping and tearing at his smooth cool sheets.

"What . . . what was that? What happened? What did you do to me?"

 _Oh innocent little virgins. They had no idea what pleasures lay in waiting for them._

"I gave you pleasure, my sweet girl," he told her, feeling proud and smug.

"Oh, oh," she was confused and bewildered. He was still caressing her, his fingers still teasing, still exploring her most secret places. "Oh," she tried to pull back from him but he stayed with her, not allowing her to escape his attentions.

"There's more," he told her, promising her, enticing her. He leaned forward and began to kiss her, first on her cheek, then along her chin and finally her mouth, his lips capturing hers, encouraging her to open her mouth to him, then gently slipping his tongue along the edge of her lips. She was clinging to him quickly, tentatively, hesitantly kissing him back, her hands on his shoulders, holding him, holding on to him.

His hand slipped from between her legs and soon enough he was on top of her, lying between her legs, lying on top of her, supporting his weight on his elbows and all the time, all the time he was kissing her and whispering how beautiful she was between the kisses.

"Do you want more?" he asked her, pulling back so that he could look down at her with his odd eyes, the pupils not their usual reptilian slits but fully dilated, filling the amber irises. "More from me?" he asked.

She nodded and he was kissing her again. If Belle was startled when his clothes disappeared she did not indicate it, seeming to welcome the heat that his body, scale to skin, was generating with hers. He pulled back a little so that he was partially on his knees, raised above her body. His hand dropped to between her legs. She was very wet and still relaxed from her earlier release. He took himself in hand and positioned himself at her entrance.

"Sweet girl, look at me," he ordered. Her eyes met his and he watched as her pupils contracted when he pushed into her. There was a cry of pain and he stopped, allowing her to adjust, to accommodate him. He began kissing her again, praising her bravery now along with her beauty.

"Is this over?" she managed to ask him.

"No my sweet, but it will get better," he promised, kissing away the sweat that was now on her forehead.

"Promise?" she asked him.

He smiled, "I promise." And he began again, thrusting, pistoning himself in and out as Belle fell apart, falling into a maelstrom of desire and heat.

.

.

.

There was a rush and both Rumple and Belle were back in his shop. They stared at each other, their mouths opened, and then both dropped their eyes.

"That was a fantasy of mine," they both said at the same time.

"What?" they both said.

Rumple stepped back, "Belle?"

She was fiercely blushing and could not meet his eyes. "There were times at the Dark Castle that I wondered what it would be like if you kissed me, if you touched me. I wondered what it would be like to lie in your bed and have you take advantage of me." She glanced up at him. "You must think me depraved," she said looking away.

"Never," he assured her. "You were an innocent girl on the threshold of maturity that I took away from her family. You were put in my absolute power and if you wanted to survive it was natural for you to have begun thinking of different ways you might please me. I knew this, as the Dark One I knew this." He closed his eyes for a moment before speaking again. "Belle, I often," he began. "I often had thoughts of having you in my bed and having my way with you. And," he added truthfully, the confession costing him, "not all these thoughts were coming from the Dark One. Apparently, we both had the same dark fantasy about each other."

"Apparently," Belle agreed. "This is rather embarrassing," she told him.

"And a bit arousing," he told her, a slight smirk gracing his face.

She blushed again, "Yes," she agreed, "a lot arousing, actually. I wonder how many of these other dreamcatchers hold similar thoughts, dreams and fantasies about other people. I wouldn't want anyone else to see anything like this one about us and . . .

"I really don't care to have access to anyone elses fantasies or fetishes," he completed her thought.

"No, that could be distasteful," Belle agreed. "I would guess the beads may give us a clue about who the dreamcatcher is about. I'm guessing I'm the bright blue bead and you're the black one. Emma is a bright green and Bae is a creamy yellow."

Rumple nodded as he began sorting through the dreamcatchers. "So likely Snow is the white bead, Charming is the pale blue and Regina . . ."

"I bet that she's the purple bead," supplied Belle picking up one of the dreamcatchers with a bright purple bead and a dark green bead. "So, maybe we should return these others to the ones they belong to."

"Yes, I think so. I certainly don't want to accidentally stumble on anything featuring Regina or Killian, together . . . or separately," he agreed acerbically.

Belle picked up a dreamcatcher with a black bead and a pale green-blue bead. She put that aside _suspecting it might be one of Zelena's_. She also found some dreamcatchers with bright green beads and deep navy blue beads _Emma and Killian?_ These too, she put aside. There were a few others with black and blue beads, Rumple's and hers. She put them aside. Perhaps they could view the images at another time . . . or not. _She wasn't sure how he might feel about looking at these memories - one, at least, had been painful for him._

"You're picking out the ones with our beads in them?" he asked.

"Yes, well, I am wondering what other pornographic thoughts we've had about each other. I'm not sure if we should look at these or not. Do you think our wedding night might be in one of these?" she asked him.

He smiled. "I doubt it, unless it was taken from your mind. I have perfect recall of that night."

She flushed. "You know looking at these could be embarrassing. What if I find out that you have some secret sexual fantasy about me?"

He picked up the pile of dreamcatchers that included 'their' beads and very nearly grinned, "Actually I'm hoping I do find something like that out about you. If there's anything else I should be doing for you, I'd certainly like to know about it."

"But what if it's something very, very naughty?" she asked in a small voice and bit her lower lip.

He looked at her for a long moment, then scooped up all the dreamcatchers with black and blue beads and took her arm.

"We're going home right now. To the bedroom and we're looking into all of these. All of them," he told her. He glanced down at her red open-toed, high-heeled strappy sandals. "And you're keeping those shoes on."

 **A.N. There was a prompt related to 'granny porn' (their choice of words, not mine) with Jones and others watching a sex tape of Gold and Belle and feeling . . . inadequate. The dreamcatchers David took could easily have such a memory that Jones could access. Let me know if there's any interest in a chapter two along these lines. - twyla**


	2. Library Fine

**Dreamcatcher**

 **Chapter Two**

 **The Library Fine**

David laid the stack of dreamcatchers on the kitchen counter. After the foray with Belle, he had gone over to Regina's to meet up with Robin and Killian. Regina was over with Snow and all the children, including Henry. Robin and Killian were there waiting for him. Robin greeted him anxiously.

"How'd it go?"

"Success!"

Killian shook his head. "I don't know about this. Working with the crocodile . . . "

"He's Rumplestiltskin now, not the Dark One," David corrected him. "He's pretty sure he's got a direction to go that will help Emma and since he's the only one who's got any ideas . . . well, I'm going along with him."

Robin nodded in agreement. "It's the best choice we have."

"Yeah, well, when your choice is between no options and bad options . . . that's no choice," Killian groused.

"What are these?" Robin had noticed the stack of dreamcatchers that David had set on the counter. "Some of Emma's other dreamcatchers?"

"There were hundreds of them in her basement. We found the one Rumple wanted and we grabbed a bunch of the others just to see what they do," David explained.

Killian picked up one. "They do something?" he asked.

"I don't know. Belle took some, too."

Killian held one up. It had a violet bead and a grey bead in it.

Abruptly a picture of Henry and Violet appeared, with both of the young people dressed in Camelot garb, walking and holding hands together.

"This is something that happened when we were in Camelot." Robin said recognizing the clothing.

Bored, Killian held up another dreamcatcher. This one had a white bead and pale blue bead. "What's this one?"

 _It was Mary Margaret and David, both in Camelot garb. They were arguing about Lancelot and Arthur. They stopped and took each other's hands. They looked into each other's eyes. "We aren't getting anywhere with this." David said._

" _There has to be a way we can work together and find out the truth," Mary Margaret told her husband._

" _I agree absolutely. And . . . I have an idea," David told her. They smiled at each other_.

They watched as the two concocted a plan to discover which one was telling the truth, Lancelot or Arthur, since it was obvious that they both weren't being honest.

"These appear to be some of our forgotten memories from Camelot!" David suddenly realized. "I don't remember having this discussion with Mary Margaret. If we had enough of these, we might be able to piece together what happened while we were there."

"Agreed, man," Killian said and picked up a large dreamcatcher with a black bead and a bright blue bead.

 _It was Gold walking into the Storybrooke Library. The man was dressed, as he almost always was, impeccably, in a black three-piece suit with a burgundy shirt and complimentary tie and pocket square. To Killian's mind the man didn't walk, he swaggered, even with that damn cane._

Killian pulled back. "This isn't Camelot."

"No, I wonder what it means. Why did Emma have this memory?" Robin asked.

They continued watching the images as they splayed across the dreamcatcher.

 _Gold walked up to the main desk where Miss French was sitting behind the Return Counter working at the computer. Gold had to lean over the counter to look down at her. She was dressed in her most pedestrian style, a severe white cotton blouse tucked into a full dark plaid skirt. She did wear some interesting stacked black heels with little bows on them. She had pulled her hair back into a bun. She wore no jewelry or makeup._

" _Miss French," he began and laid some books on the counter._

" _Mr. Gold," she greeted him, looking up from her chair. It was one of those large sturdy wooden swivel chairs with an arm on each side. Miss French glanced at the books and stood up to examine them. "These books are seriously overdue," she pronounced._

" _Yeah, they are," he agreed with just a hint of a smirk._

" _There's a fine," she told him._

" _I'm prepared to pay it," he answered her._

" _And," she continued in her sternest librarian voice, "since you're a Repeat Offender, there will be a Penalty."_

" _I expected as much. The usual, Miss French?" He laid his hand on the smooth polished wooden counter top and began slowly moving his fingers in small circles. He watched her intently._

 _Miss French stiffened. "I think the usual will be . . . " she hesitated, blinking her eyes. "the usual should be . . .uh . . .uh . . . sufficient."_

 _He continued to rub his hand on the countertop, in circles, back and forth, over and over while Miss French began to breathe heavily, panting, closing her eyes and beginning to moan. She was holding on to the other side of the counter, holding onto it, her hands clenching at the edge. She tilted her head back, her breathing now coming fast and little sounds escaping from her. Suddenly she lurched forward and a sharp cry came from her._

" _Rum!"_

 _She nearly collapsed onto the counter._

"What was that?" David asked.

"Well, mate it looked like the crocodile worked his mojo and got his woman off just standing there in the library," Killian guessed. "Neat trick that."

"Uh, guys, this looks like it might be kinda personal," Robin was clearly uncomfortable.

"Yes it does," Killian agreed and held the dreamcatcher up again.

 _Miss French was pulling herself together. "Mr. Gold," she addressed him firmly. "That was_ not _according to the rules."_

 _Gold gave her a smirk, "Well then, I guess there will be an additional penalty?" he asked._

" _I'm afraid so. I can't afford to be lenient with you. If I let you get away with something one time, I'm sure you won't hesitate to try it again," she told him, a faint smile appearing on her face all the while she was shaking her head in mock dismay._

 _He walked around to the back of the counter and put his arms around an unresisting Miss French. He whispered in her ear, "It's after closing time, do we need to lock the front door?" and then he smelt her hair, breathing her scent in._

" _I'll take care of it," she told him breathlessly._

" _Allow me," he told her and held his hand up, obviously using magic, to shut and then latch the door. The Open sign flipped over to Closed. He followed up by turning off most of the lights in the facility. He then pulled her into him, her back to his front. One hand impudently reached up to caress a breast and the other dropped down to her stomach. She leaned back into him and he busied himself kissing along her neck, sometimes kissing, sometimes licking, sometimes just using his lips to pull the salt off of her skin, savoring her unique personal flavor._

 _In short order, Miss French was quickly moaning, one hand resting on top of his hand that was alternately exploring the softness of her breast and tweaking her hardened nipple through her blouse and her bra. Soon her other hand reached up and back to grasp him as she could by the neck, her fingers entwining in his hair. He pulled her taut against himself and held her as still as he could, his hand now under her skirts. Soon enough she was making little noises and her hand was curling in his hair. And then she was crying out his name again, her body jerking in his hands._

"This is definitely really personal stuff," Robin said.

"Is this a memory, a dream, a fantasy?" David asked.

"Who cares? I'm betting he gets her off one more time before she lets him bang her," Killian said.

 _Mr. Gold was holding Miss French upright, whispering sweet things in her ear, letting her know how beautiful she was, how much he appreciated her responsiveness._

 _He turned her around and kissed her directly on the mouth. Miss French clung to him but seemed to be slipping down, her knees buckling, her grasp on his suit jacket failing her. When he released her, her head fell back. He lifted her and set her on the high counter, unfastening her shoes and dropping them on the floor. He then reached up under her skirts and dragged her panties down her legs. He stopped a moment to inhale the sweet scent of her arousal then tucked the lacy underthings into his jacket pocket. Then he sat down in her heavy wooden chair which put him on eye level with her hips. With excruciating slowness, he caressed her smooth, silken legs, grazing her with his nails, running his hands up from her ankles to her knees, then pulling her knees apart. . . and holding them apart. His eyes locked with hers a moment, her breath catching in her throat, her teeth biting her lower lip. Then he lifted her skirt and he rolled the chair forward to bury his head between her legs._

 _Miss French leaned back on the counter supporting her weight on her arms which she had set behind herself. Her head was back and her eyes were closed as she gave herself over to his attentions. When she began making the now familiar little sounds, Mr. Gold pulled away._

" _Nooo," she told him. "Please don't stop. Please, I was so close."_

" _I need to be very sure that all is forgiven. That I will be credited with paying my fine and all my penalties," he told her softly._

" _Yes, yes, yes! Please, don't stop," she was near crying._

" _Oh, you can ask more prettily than that," he told her, pulling his head out from under her skirts, placing his hands on the tops of her thighs bunching the voluminous materials of her skirt._

" _Nooo," she protested. "I really, really want you to continue. Don't get me so close and then stop. Please."_

 _He slowly kissed the inside of her knee then turned his eyes up to hers. "Shall we make a deal?" he asked, his eyes glinting._

" _Yes, yes, whatever you want," she told him, panting._

" _Whatever? Whatever I want?" He shook his head. "Did no one ever tell you to be careful making open-ended deals?" He chuckled and kissed her other leg, licking his way a little higher up on her thigh. "I might make some outrageous request from you," he warned her._

" _Yes, yes, whatever," she pleaded with him_

" _Why don't you unbutton your blouse," he directed her and watched as Belle frantically unbuttoned the little cotton blouse she wore. "Now take it off," he told her. She immediately complied, the blouse dropping on the counter top next to her._

 _He kissed her a little higher up on her thigh. "Now, unfasten your skirt and pull it over your head."_

 _Miss French reached down and unbuttoned her skirt, unzipped it and pulled it over her head, also laying it on the counter next to her._

" _Now take off your bra."_

 _Miss French complied, removing a little beige lace number and revealing pert breasts, the nipples swollen and visibly standing out._

" _And take down your hair._

 _Miss French did as she had been told, shaking out the shining chestnut locks so that ringlets fell around her shoulders._

"That is one nice little piece of cheesecake," Killian observed. If he'd been wearing a hat, he would've tipped it to Miss French. "Whatever does she see in him?"

"Well, he can pull orgasms out of her like bunnies out of a magician's hat. A lotta women like that," David told him.

"Yeah, and he's rich," Robin also told him.

"He dresses well, too," David continued.

"He's also really smart. Belle would certainly like that," Robin added.

Killian glowered at the two other men. "All right, I get it."

And their attention returned to the dreamcatcher.

" _Very nice," Mr. Gold complimented her and moved back to continue his efforts with his tongue and lips, kissing her in her most sensitive places, licking, sucking and finally, joining his fingers to the effort, slipping two of them into her wet, ready passage while he clamped down on her sensitized clit._

 _Miss French who had been moaning and thrashing about as she could, suddenly went very still and then it appeared as if she convulsed, her entire body shaking while she screamed, "Rum, Rum, Ruuuuummmm!"_

 _She collapsed onto his shoulders._

 _He managed to stand and wrapped his arms around her._

"That was pretty impressive," Robin had to admit.

"Three times in what, fifteen, twenty minutes? Yeah. I'm impressed," David agreed.

"Well, he had to use magic for that first one," Killian told them. "Do you think he's gonna boink her right there in the library?"

"Should we be watching this?" David had to ask.

"It does seem . . . intrusive," Robin agreed.

"Didn't you say that Belle took some of these back with her to the crocodile?" Killian asked. "For all we know, they could be watching any of us having our way with our women. Do you think Gold would have the moral fiber to stop watching, even if Belle walked away?"

"Well," Robin vacillated.

Killian continued, "Have to admit, I'm not looking forward to seeing the crocodile's antiquated arse, much less his shriveled junk. But I am willing to bet that he can only get it up once."

"You're on," David told him. "I'd be willing to take that bet. Twenty dollars?"

"How about a hundred?" Killian upped the bet.

"Done," said David.

 _Mr. Gold stood a moment to pull Miss French off the counter and sat back down in the wooden chair pulling her onto his lap. He stopped a moment to unfasten his belt and unzip his pants and then settled Miss French down onto his lap. He had her thread her legs through the arms of the chair. She was facing him. He quickly lifted her up to lower her down onto his very ready cock. Belle shuddered at the abrupt possession, her eyes fluttering. He kissed her softly while she clung to him._

" _Are you all right?" he asked._

 _She managed to nod. "I just wasn't expecting anything so quick," she said. She smiled at him, "I'm all right."_

 _Miss French then began to kiss his face and his neck while she busied herself unknotting his tie, pulling it off and unbuttoning his vest and shirt, so she could run her hands over his chest. He directed her to hold onto the arms of the chair and then he began to canter his hips up and down. The motion of his body caused the chair to swivel around and around. It began to roll across the floor slowly turning round. Miss French found herself holding onto the arms of the chair to keep herself level and to hold on as the chair began moving. Gold reached around to take her first by the waist and then his hands dropped to clamp down on to her hips. He continued lifting himself, moving more and more rapidly, relishing her hot, wet reception._

" _Rum," she said weakly and her body trembled. She fell into him as he pushed up a few more times, then moaned and tensed, and he poured himself into her._

 _He held her, wrapping his arms around her, rocking her and whispering nonsense sounds to her._

"Well, damn, he's gotten her off five times now," Killian muttered. "But who's counting?"

"Apparently you are," Robin observed.

" _Why don't I help you get dressed my sweetheart and we'll go back to the house?" he asked her._

" _Give me a moment," she asked him, her voice soft and quick. She was still nestled on his lap, lying on his chest._

" _Give me a moment and I'll be ready for you again," he warned her. "Especially if you keep wiggling around like you're doing."_

Killian sat upright, "There is no way he's going to get it up again that quickly!"

David shook his head, "No telling. But I think I'm going to want to invest in one of those library chairs. That looked like fun. I'm going home to return to the wife," he announced. "I'll put you on the honor system here. Let me know if he does it twice."

"I think I want one of those chairs too," Robin shared. "And I'm going to go ahead with David and pick up Regina, Henry and Roland. You're on your own here. Make sure the show is over before we get back."

"Well, fine then," Killian told the other two men. He sat in Regina's kitchen still holding the dreamcatcher.

 _It wasn't fair. It was obvious that Rumple was amplifying his efforts with magic, but, damn, the man did have some moves._

He held up the dreamcatcher and watched.

 _Miss French was still collapsed onto Gold. He was petting her and occasionally planting small kisses on her. He continued to murmur soft comforting words to her and she slowly seemed to regain possession of her faculties._

" _I'm sorry. I may have drifted off," she told him sitting up._

" _You were wonderful," he reassured her. He put his hands on both sides of her face and kissed her, his mouth gently prying hers open and his hands slipping to the back of her head to hold her in place. Her arms came up around him. They parted and he slowly smiled at her. Miss French dropped her eyes apparently reading his intent._

 _Gold rose up from the chair, holding her against him. Miss French wrapped her legs around him allowing him to carry her. He stopped in front of her work desk and lowered her. Miss French dropped her legs so that she was standing up. Gold planted one more kiss on her nose and turned her around, ignoring Miss French's half-hearted protests. He reached down and swept away papers and pencils and the other office paraphernalia that was on the work desk and gently pushing her down so that she was lying face-down across her own desk. His hands were on her hips. This time he dropped his pants and there was a brief moment of full frontal._

Killian swore, "Damn it to hell, the freakin' lunch box has landed!" This couldn't be all Rumplestiltskin – the man had to have augmented himself - both his equipment and his stamina.

But there was still his technique . . . well damn.

 _Gold was actively servicing a moaning Miss French, pushing against her lovely bum, taking his time to work himself into her. It was a snugger fit from this angle and he had no wish to create any discomfort. From this vantage he was able to reach down and around to stimulate the tender flesh between her legs and she quickly responded._

Killian realized he'd lost count of how many times Gold had brought French over the top . . . more than he'd ever done with Emma in one session . . . or Milah, for that matter. He and Gold had both had over three hundred years to work on their skills (although, Killian had to excuse himself, most of his time had been spent in Neverland and fair and willing women were few to none in that cursed realm.) Of course, Rumple had been covered with green scales during that time, which had to have impacted on him picking up women – but he did have that magic allure thing going for him.

Shit, though, there was no getting around it. No matter how many excuses, how many explanations, how much he rationalized. Whatever Rumple might have been before, here and now, Rumple was better in the sack than he was.

 **The Pawn Shop – Early the Next Day  
**

It was morning. David and Killian had dropped by the Pawn Shop. Gold looked up from his usual place behind the counter when they came in, ringing his little shop bell.

"Still working on things," he told David shortly.

"I know, we just came by to drop off some of these dreamcatchers," David explained.

Gold froze for the briefest of moments. "Yes. We were able to access memories on these, many memories from Camelot. Belle figured out that the color of the beads indicates the persons involved in the memory."

"We pretty much got that too," David told him. "I pulled out those that were for Snow and me, those that were for Regina and Robin and then Killian got the ones for himself and Emma. I think these are yours and Belle's." David handed Gold some dreamcatchers with black and bright blue beads.

"Thank you. And I've got yours all sorted out," he motioned to one of the counter tops that held neat stacks of the different groupings of dreamcatchers.

"Listen Gold. I . . . we really appreciate your help with all this. What's happening with Emma is really making us re-think how the Dark Curse affects a person and . . . well, I think we may owe you . . . uh . . . an apology."

Gold stood quietly. "Thank you," he finally said.

"Where's Miss Belle?" Killian asked. "Usually she's here dusting and flitting around and stuff."

"She's over in the library today. She really wants to get it up and running properly," Gold told them and winced. "I just remembered. I've got a book out and I'm pretty sure it's overdue."

David swallowed so abruptly that he choked and Killian had to pound him on his back.

"Are you all right?" Gold asked the man.

"Yeah," David managed to nod, still coughing.

"He was just wondering if Belle was going to have you pay a fine for being late," Killian said.

"I would think so," Gold told them. "She's very strict about that type of thing." And he watched with some amusement as Killian led a still coughing David out the shop.

 **The Diner - Early the Next Day**

"Well Belle, I don't understand. How did all those shelving units tip over? It's not like we had an earthquake or anything," Leroy was shaking his head.

Mrs. Gold had come into the diner and had asked for his assistance in re-ordering the library. Apparently there had been an incident and a shelving unit had tipped over which began a domino effect and several units had gone down.

Belle blushed. "I was . . . uh . . . re-shelving some books and I . . . I got distracted and, well, one thing led to another and . . . can you just help me get the shelf units put back up, please?"

Killian had been in the booth just across from Leroy. He muttered under his breath, "Re-shelving. So that's what they're calling it now."

Belle turned to look at him, having overheard the remark.

"Killian?"

He looked at her. "Was Gold helping you – re-shelve those books?" he had to ask.

She gave him a brilliant smile. "Why yes, he was. He was late with returning a book and I had him help out to pay off a penalty."

"Doesn't sound like it worked out too well," Killian said sourly into his coffee, "if you ended up trashing the library."

"The re-shelving didn't go so well, but . . . well, everything else was _very satisfying."_

Killian watched her leave with Leroy.

 _Yeah, Gold was definitely better in the sack than he was._

 _It sucked._

 **A.N. I want to thank everyone for their remarkably kind and enthusiastic reviews. This was as far as I had intended to take this (I'm working on a more serious story for the Winter Hiatus, really I am); however, several of you have suggested additional things that might be explored with these dreamcatchers (thank you) – most often Belle and Rumple viewing events and fantasies from their past – I don't know – I'll have to see if the mood strikes. Writing smut turns out to be one of the more challenging writing tasks I've ever attempted and I find it incredibly stressful (and I write to relieve stress not create it). We'll see. Thx -twyla**


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